


Sacrifice

by castielslovesong



Series: A Pirates Life For Us [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anti-Possession Tattoos, Bottom Dean, Chick flick moment, Destiel - Freeform, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Guitars, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oh god, Pirate AU, Pirates, Scars, Smut, Talking, Tattoos, Top Castiel, dean/cas - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:09:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielslovesong/pseuds/castielslovesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Dean reflects on what got him here, and what plagues him in his nightmares, he is unaware of a very clever scheming Cas.</p><p>Dean's baggage goes further than his war torn body and soul laid bare on the surface of his skin, his heart and head truly believe he is not worthy.</p><p>However, what he doesn't account for is Cas' wicked tongue and all to big heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy all!
> 
> So there's the next part, some shameless smut for you. *Runs and hides*
> 
> You get to learn some more about Dean's past wooohooo. Cas' up for his chick flick moments next ;) Oh yeah, and it's basically all top!Cas because did you see him in the alley! Holy shit, my ovaries were like Misha would you not ;) So yeah, top!Cas, bottom!Dean, not that that's particularly important for this one but you might want to bear it in mind for upcoming works.
> 
> I'm not being mean to Sammy, really I love Sam, so if it seems like it, I'm sorry (:
> 
> I should not be allowed to write sex scenes but I'm without a beta and I have no writing friends so... bite me!
> 
> Please feedback, PLEASE.
> 
> Peace Out Bitches -xo
> 
> Update: Next Saturday

_10 years earlier_

“Sammy! I can’t believe you would do that. Drugs Sammy!? Ruby, you and, fucking...” He scraped a hand through his short hair. “Fucking Ruby, Sam!? I warned you-“

“Is this the ‘I told you so’ speech Dean? I don’t know what to do; they’re coming for _me_ and without Dad...” Sam trailed off. Flinching at the mention of their father, Dean blew the breath he had been holding through parted lips. Nervously, he licked them, and then braced his hands on his brother’s shoulders, prompting the younger Winchester to look up.

“Sam. A long time ago I promised you that as long as I was around, nothing bad was going to happen to you.” The hazel of Sam’s eyes gleamed with accumulating tears. Dean held his breath. He hadn’t seen that look since they were boys, when Dean could actually look down at his younger brother. The anger was quashed by fear – Winchester’s don’t scare easy.

“It’s going to be ok.” Patting his brother’s cheek, he stared absently at Sam’s obscenely long hair, wondering which one of them he was trying to convince and just how in Hell he was going to pull it off. “I... I need to go out, see if anyone in the network knows anything. I’m coming back, just stick at the Roadhouse. Go talk to that Jess chick, I know you were all gooey eyes for her before that Demon bitch showed up.”

Sam looked as though he wanted to say something, but opted for silence; Dean took his leave.

They were at port in Tortuga, only meant to be passing through. _God damn it._ So, Dean did the only thing he knew to do. He went to Missouri.

“Boy, look at you! Years on the ocean be making you all skinny!” Ushering him in, she pushed him onto the oriental sofa and left the room. “You need to eat.” She called from the kitchen of her home.

A home it was! It was the most amazing place in the world, a shack on stilts a way out from shore. Dangerous when large storms come in, but Missouri seems to know when they are going to hit and stays with Ellen and Bobby when the weather takes a turn down shit creek. Smiling, Dean fondly remembered when he and Sam used to row out in one of the small canoes to see her. The large black woman wandered back into the room where Dean was seated, the many pendants around her neck clashing as she placed the plate of pie before him. He grinned and began to eat.

“Not that it isn’t lovely to see your face, but I notice you’re without Sam. What can I do for you, boy?”

“Well –“ He began, mouth full of half chewed (very appreciated) pie.

Missouri slapped his wrist. “Talk with a mouth of food again and I’ll take the pie away.”

Swallowing, he tried again. “There’s a situation.”

She cocked an eye, “Slavery? Demons? Be specific boy, I’m not that good a psychic.”

“Demons and the Feds. I have kept Sam out of it all these years and all it takes is one Demon bitch for it to all fall apart.”

Missouri looked concerned for the first time; he knew exactly what it was she was thinking. The Demon crew, run by Crowley while Lucifer was having family problems, were an increasing threat. On top of that are the rumours of a place called ‘Hell’ and Purgatory. He shivered. Those places were supposed to be stories his Dad told him to keep him in line, not to mention they should not be on this plane of existence. _Damn, we’re starting to sound like Uncle Bobby._ And the Feds, short for Federation, were just about the biggest pain in the ass for a pirate. They govern the cities and coasts, condemning and hanging all those who commit piracy, aid a pirate or even associate themselves with their activities. While they hunt pirates, Dean hunts the real bad guys. All the jobs they’ve ever done (with their father and without) Dean had managed to keep Sam’s name out of it.

Of course, the Winchester Brothers were famous. But they were famous for their successes. Dean Winchester has almost been hanged, narrowly escaping the black noose of death two times no less, for being a pirate and victimised for the times that a job has ended with casualties or deaths. He’d do it all again to keep his little brother safe, letting him take his shot at civilian life.

“Don’t you be blaming yourself boy. Look I don’t know if it’s any help, but I heard some chatter at the Crossroads bar, south of here. If you’re looking for information, I’d start there.”

Thanking Missouri as he left, he made his way to the Crossroads. When the sun set, bleeding red into the deep blue ocean, Dean sold his soul and saved his brother.

 

_Now_

“Dean?”

Cas’ voice was pitched slightly higher than usual, causing Dean to glance up at the dangling head above him.

“Yeah Cas?”

Of all the oceans Dean has sailed, 5 to be exact, he has never lost himself quite so much as the sapphire blue of Cas’ eyes; even his unnerving stare calmed even the wildest waves in Dean’s mind.

“Would you be interested in coming back up on deck? Jo doesn’t have a bearing and she is becoming rather agitated. You have been absent for many hours.”

He chuckled, running his hand along the smooth wood of the guitar and as he stood, he admired once more the workmanship that built his baby. Even with the amount of times she’d been patched up, the dark rosewood made her stand out against even the lightest sunrise. Pulling himself up, he stood face to face with Cas, who apparently still had no consideration of personal space boundaries.

“Hello Dean.”

Dean surveyed the deck around them; then glanced to the west where the last glimpse of the sun could be admired before the gloomy hand of the night dragged it below the horizon. 

Before Dean could comment on the fact that a) nobody will be up at this time because b) it’s too late to navigate, Cas’ lips slammed into his own.

His mind blanked. He could feel hands trailing his chest and was vaguely aware of his own hands learning the contours of Cas’ lean frame through his shirt and under that damned trench coat.

Suddenly, they were all too public. Pulling at the man’s hips, he dragged himself and Castiel into his quarters and over to the bed.

He was usually in control, but when Cas rolled his hips and pushed him over the side of the bed, he so lost in euphoria of _Cas_ that he let him take the reins. The little keening noises Cas made as he licked into Dean’s mouth. His hips were jutting up against Cas’, painfully hard in his trousers.

They broke apart, Dean lifting Cas’ shirt over his head to reveal the beautifully pale skin. And that was it. Cas searched for his mouth but he latched himself onto Cas’ collar bone, gaining him a low growl. He felt Cas’ fingers pushing up the hem of his own shirt; his hands dropped to his wrists.

Dazed, Cas frowned down at him. He shook his head. Cas leant down and kissed him so tenderly, that this wasn’t even about the sex.

He realised, these feelings for Cas weren’t like the ones he shared with those from the whore house. Bird like, Cas stared down at him.

“Promise... Promise you won’t say anything.” His voice was thick from arousal and personal pain.  

“Dean, I promise.”

Licking his lips, Dean leaned up to kiss Cas softly once more, dragging his lip through his teeth. Still holding Cas’ wrists, he helped him push his hands up, the shirt peeling away from his body.

He felt horribly exposed.

Cas’ eyes went almost comically wide and Dean began to shy away when Cas pinned his hands to his sides. Straddling Dean, he dipped down, hands gently tracing and learning the shape of his body.

“You’re... Beautiful.”

Dean felt the heat run up his neck, he’d been called a lot of things: pretty, delicate, worthless but never _beautiful._ He swallowed, letting Cas’ hands explore his body. This was the first time in over 5 years since he’s been shirtless in front of anyone except Benny. Then again, Benny had to see him shirtless in order to tattoo him.

There was Vonnegut’s bird cage, over the left hand side of his ribcage with the words ‘everything was beautiful and nothing hurt’ in the base of the cage. Great black swirls twirled over his peck and part of his right shoulder. Like a necklace etched in ink, rosemary beads lay over his collar bones. Flowing down his full right hand side was a rose on fire. The petals were ashen and the flames licked red and orange at the base.

His right arm was bare. Castiel leant down to map out the swirls from his shoulder, ending with his wrist, where the raised skin in the brand ‘P’ stood out. He kissed the mark and read the simple black words over his vein:

“Think and wonder.” Whispering, he started at the base of his other wrist.

Barbed wire was wrapped around his forearm; it looked as real as in the flesh. On his left shoulder was an indented star, authentically tattooed with the skin around it to look cracked and the words inside, carved in red ink.

Some of the words were overlapped under the ‘skin’ of the star, but there was love, friendship, integrity, freedom... And finally Family emblazoned in black ink.

He kissed Dean again who had not moved a muscle since he started. The hands ran back over his chest, forgoing the art and feeling the rough skin; those were his scars. You could not see the bruises from resent exertions, due to the ink, but Castiel could feel all the different imperfections on the flawless man. He had suffered many injustices and still hates and blames himself.

On the opposite peck, a star surrounded by flames, known in lore as the anti-possession tattoo and more commonly to them – The Hunter’s Crew mark. Taking Dean’s hand, he placed it over his own mark and held his other hand to Dean’s. They kissed, deep, all tongues and pent up emotions.

Swiftly, Cas stopped kissing him and rolled him onto his back.

His gasp, this time, was audible.

Running in thick red scars, angry lines transacted his back. Whip marks. At the base of Dean’s neck, wings flared open with a single date between the joints with the infinity symbol beneath it stood out against the tan, freckle speckled skin. He also noticed, on the tip of every other feather was a letter.

A-N-G-E-L-S—A-R-E—W-A-T-C-H-I-N-G—O-V-E-R—Y-O-U

His hand fell to the spare skin on the back of Dean’s right shoulder, his head nuzzling into Dean’s neck while his hand traced the last few tattoos.

Trailing over part of one of the slashes was a five line staff, the notes inked in for the appropriate chords. Fingers dancing over the notes, feeling the rumble of Dean’s voice through his back and pressing a palm to his spine, Cas listened.

“The song, it’s Hey Jude. I can play it.”

“Hmm.” Humming in agreement, he kissed the treble clef. Ironically, Dean had small birds flying away from the half visible bird cage on his side. He smiled against the warm skin. The last tattoo on his back was a small anchor just above his coccyx. Breathe ghosting over the place above his crack, Cas felt Dean mewl beneath him. Planting a kiss he turned the man back over and started more vigorously rutting against him.

Dean’s hand slid down, without warning, into Cas’ pants and grabbed his length. The groan Cas’ mouth made had his own hips stuttering. That wonderfully mussed hair was in full sexed up mode and his eyes were screwed up with pleasure.

Grinding up, Dean twisted his wrist, feeling Cas’ hand slip below his waistband and take a hold of his own erection.

Dean smiled. “Cas, open your eyes, I want to watch you come.”

The moment blue hit green they climaxed together, lying in a heap on the Captain’s bed.

Cas snuggled into him, fingers still dancing over his skin. sure, they were going to be gross in the morning, but they will be hitting port soon; as he turned his head into the mess of raven feathers for hair, he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be. 


End file.
